Saturday, April 13, 2013

One of the most difficult things I have ever had to face is trying to maintain some sort of interest in myself. Every time I grow , I feel so much contempt for the person I had been just before.
Growing up is a difficult process. It takes so much out of you that you feel a little bit of resentment for the slightly whole version of yourself you just lost.
Missing pieces and memories like shards of glass prick you reminding you of everything that you gave up in trying to be someone else. Satisfaction is an ideal that no one ever achieves. This constant charade of changing people , mutating feelings keeps one hungry and dissatisfied.
I have been trying to write about this for a long time. But the words just don't come anymore. Paradise is not only lost forever but it burnt down long ago.
So much dissatisfaction , so much angst and ever so much pain. Does growing up ever really end ? And is it necessarily a good thing ?
I want to believe that the bright painful light I am chasing and forever walking towards will ultimately stop getting brighter so that I will finally be able to see where I am. My eyes never get a chance to adjust as the light keeps changing , growing brighter and brighter.
How white is white enough ? Will there ever be a moment where it would feel right? When the pain would end ?
I fear I don't even register the minutely increasing stabs of pain now. It almost feels as if I am running , wanting something which I don't even quite want.
It would be nice to see and nicer still to go blind. It hurts to live in a haze with no purity of white or black .
Much as we complicate everything and put things beyond definitions, it only deepens the gray , forever giving me hope that one end of the spectrum of colours is now near.
Growing up is harder than I thought it would be . I know now the immense potential that this 'journey' offers. A potential that will never let you be . It will only keep you moving , forever dissatisfied and hungry.
"Why did you wait so long to find me ?"